


The Cursed Hair

by Professor Fries (ClaireOShea)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, That motherly plait hairstyle that kills all its bearers, hair cutting, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireOShea/pseuds/Professor%20Fries
Summary: Mercedes knew that it was just a fable, a ghost story to tell children to get them to behave, a superstition. But superstitions have a reason why they continued to be passed on, a reason why they survive the test of time.You've had this hair for years now and nothing's happened, she kept telling herself. But the more she did, the more part of her brain attached the world yet to the end of the phrase.
Kudos: 15





	The Cursed Hair

**Author's Note:**

> So you know that side plait hairstyle that all anime moms that have it die? What if that fable was the reason why post-time skip Mercedes has a bob hairstyle?
> 
> Idea originally came from Annie in a Discord server I'm on, thanks for letting me write this!

In the bathroom mirror she saw her reflection, albeit muddied from the ever growing collection of dust. War was on the horizon, everyone could feel it in their bones. So much felt out of their control, they could train and ready themselves for an impending attack on the monastery, but there was no knowing exactly when such an encounter would occur. 

Last night after dinner in the dining hall, all of the remaining students gathered together for campfire. Roasting marshmallows, making s'mores, singing campfire songs, telling ghost stories, anything to establish some form of normalcy amidst the chaos. 

_And so that hair is cursed to this day, those who bear it doomed to death._

Mercedes knew that it was just a fable, a ghost story to tell children to get them to behave, a superstition. But superstitions have a reason why they continue to be passed on, a reason why they survive the test of time. 

_You've had this hair for years now and nothing's happened._ She kept telling herself, but the more she did, the more part of her brain attached the word yet to the end of the phrase. 

Now here she was, catching her reflection in the dingy mirror, pair of crafting scissors grasped in her now trembling hand. War was coming, and superstition or not, you can never be too careful. Hair grows and can return, but a lost life is something you can't get back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered a small apology, yet to whom she did not know. With little preparation, she began snipping away. She started off very cautiously, only letting small sections be cut. Sure, it had to be cut, but not be too drastic and do something that will quickly be regretted. Hair now at roughly shoulder length, a new fear surfaced. 

_What if this isn't enough?_

She had already cut off so much, the puddle of straw blonde hair growing at her feet, but this would al be for naught if it wasn't enough. 

Hair grows back She reminded herself before taking up her tiny scissors again, much less reserved with her snips this time around. Haphazardly, the cut hairs started falling again. 

"Mercie, are you alright?" She heard a voice call out. It was Annette. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mercedes answered, voice trembling as much as her hand was earlier, and frankly still is but to a lesser degree. In return, Annette came into Mercie's room, shock spreading on her face in response to the ordeal she was witnessing. A pool of blonde hair on the carpeted floor, now drowning Mercedes' feet. "Oh no, what did you do to your hair?"

"You heard the story. It had to go," Mercedes replied. Her hair was now at shoulder length, or at least that seemed to be what she was trying for, it didn't really work in practice though. Some parts of her head were cut shorter while others sections were longer, needless to say it did not have a uniform appearance. 

"You believed the story Felix told last night?" Annette questioned, taking on a somewhat harsh tone. "It was just a scary campfire story, you didn't need to cut your hair over it."

"But I'd heard it before!" Mercedes raised her voice in defense of her actions, something that she rarely does. "Why would it continue on if there was no truth in it? The Empire has declared war on the church, I can't take any chances." She was crying now, teardrops rolling from her eyes down her cheek before hitting the floor, joining her strands of straw. 

"It's okay, Mercie," Annette's tone dropped to the opposite end of the spectrum, now trying to comfort her friend. "Come here," she instructed, outstretching an open hand as she stepped closer to her. Mercedes wiped the last of her tears before following suit, soon finding herself in her companion's embrace. 

"What's done is done, but we can fix this," Annette muttered softly. "I'll go get some proper hair scissors, and a better mirror." 

"Thank you."


End file.
